


like a peach

by Quintessence



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (it's not heavily referenced, Angst, Ash Lynx Needs A Hug, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Treating injuries, ash works on his self worth issues & we love to see it, but you kinda can't write much about ash without that topic at least coming up), it's just soft y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 23:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30046536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintessence/pseuds/Quintessence
Summary: “They tortured you,” Eiji says, his voice hardly above a whisper.“Eiji, I mean it--it looks about a million times worse than it really is.  I bruise like a peach.  Always have.”Eiji’s expression changes slightly, from pain to puzzled curiosity.“You bruise like a peach?” he repeats, as if trying the phrase on for size.  “I’ve never heard that expression before.”Ash’s shoulders relax without him meaning to.  It’s much easier to discuss silly idioms than it is to watch Eiji worry himself on account of Ash.“Yeah, you know, because peaches are so soft that they bruise easy.  It’s just an English saying.”Eiji smiles.“It makes sense,” he says, nodding.  “And I like it.  It fits, for you to be a peach.  You’re both so sweet.”Ash can’t help it--he barks out a sharp, startled laugh.“I’m a lot of things, Eiji.  Sweet isn’t one of them.”In which wounds are treated, in more ways than one.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 53
Kudos: 218





	like a peach

**Author's Note:**

> hello banana fish nation
> 
> i am well aware that there are at minimum two other things i really need to be working on right now, but i've been wrestling with a massive case of writer's block & this is the most i've been able to write in weeks, so i figured i'd take what i could get. also i am so so deep in banana fish hell that it was really only a matter a time before i wrote something for this fandom.
> 
> there are some very vague & general references to ash's trauma in this fic should that not be your cup of tea
> 
> okay, that's all i can think of for rn!!!! pls enjoy, my friends!!!!

“You need to let me have a look,” Eiji says, with an accusatory jab of the antiseptic bottle. “If you don’t clean the wounds, you could get an infection.”

Ash puts on his best unaffected, easygoing smirk. It’s easier than admitting the truth.

“Believe it or not, these aren’t my first knife wounds,” he says, the deliberate picture of nonchalance. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll be fine.”

Eiji frowns.

“You know, unlike the rest of this city, bacteria actually aren’t impressed by the name ‘Ash Lynx.’ Sepsis doesn’t care how tough you think you are. It’ll still knock you on your ass.”

And then Eiji sets his jaw in that way Ash recognizes--the one that means there’s no room for argument. Ash sighs; he’d never admit it aloud, but if it ever truly came down to a battle of wills, he has no doubt Eiji would beat him. Because Eiji is unbearably, impossibly stubborn, yes, but also because Ash knows he could never truly deny Eiji anything. So instead of fighting anymore, he simply sighs, making a distinct point of sounding as put-upon and long-suffering as possible.

“Fine. I already have a headache, and arguing with someone as utterly bull-headed as you is only going to make it worse. If you’re going to insist on being a total mother hen about things, who am I to stand in your way?”

Eiji grins, bright and triumphant, and in that instant, it’s all worth it. Ash would walk across hot coals a thousand times over to see Eiji smile like that just once.

Eiji joins Ash on the bed, spreading out the supplies beside them--cotton balls, gauze, antiseptic, bandages, medical tape. He looks like he knows what he’s doing. Not that Ash ever had any doubt--he knows he’s in safe hands with Eiji.

“You know, I can’t actually dress your wounds without seeing them. I need you to take your shirt off.”

Ash freezes. This is the part he’s dreading. Eiji glimpsed a bit of the damage through Ash’s torn shirt as they escaped Golzine’s mansion together, but he hasn’t gotten a truly good look. Ash checked in the mirror after his bath this morning--the bruises have only darkened, a mottled kaleidoscope of purples and blues and blacks, and the knife wounds stand out even starker against his skin now that the dried blood has been washed away. It’s going to hurt Eiji to see Ash like this. He knows it. Because for whatever inscrutable reason, Eiji doesn’t like to see Ash injured. In the past twenty-four hours, Eiji has been hurt enough. Ash doesn’t want to be just another wound to him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Eiji says softly, pulling Ash from his reverie. There’s something tender and concerned in his eyes. “You don’t have to undress if you don’t want to. Sorry--now that I think about it, that probably was a pretty awful thing to ask you to do.”

Something sick and hot clenches tight in Ash’s stomach. Of course Eiji would make that assumption--he’s always so careful with those sorts of things, with the broken shards of Ash’s past. And of course it would hurt him, having to be reminded of what Ash endured. Even in trying to spare him, Ash can’t help but cause Eiji pain. He squeezes his fists so tight his fingernails dig hard into his palms.

“No, it’s fine,” Ash says, with deliberate levity. “I just got lost in thought. I’m a little tired, I think.”

And before Eiji can protest, before he can find another jagged edge of Ash’s to cut himself on, Ash pulls his t-shirt over his head and tosses it aside.

Instantly, Eiji sucks in a sharp, pained breath. Ash swallows down hard and does his best to brace himself; this will undoubtedly be the worst part.

“Oh, Ash,” Eiji says gently.

Ash forces a carefree smile.

“It looks a lot worse than it really is. Don’t go working yourself into a fit over it--all that worrying will make you go grey.”

Eiji reaches out a slow, slightly trembling hand and rests it on an unblemished bit of skin, just to the right of a bruise on Ash’s ribcage. He strokes his thumb feather-light over the injury, so gentle and so unbearably soft that it sends a shiver down Ash’s spine. Eiji’s brow furrows, his eyes carefully cataloguing all of the damage.

“They tortured you,” Eiji says, his voice hardly above a whisper.

“Eiji, I mean it--it looks about a million times worse than it really is. I bruise like a peach. Always have.”

Eiji’s expression changes slightly, from pain to puzzled curiosity.

“You bruise like a peach?” he repeats, as if trying the phrase on for size. “I’ve never heard that expression before.”

Ash’s shoulders relax without him meaning to. It’s much easier to discuss silly idioms than it is to watch Eiji worry himself on account of Ash.

“Yeah, you know, because peaches are so soft that they bruise easy. It’s just an English saying.”

Eiji smiles.

“It makes sense,” he says, nodding. “And I like it. It fits, for you to be a peach. You’re both so sweet.”

Ash can’t help it--he barks out a sharp, startled laugh.

“I’m a lot of things, Eiji. Sweet isn’t one of them.”

“Yes, you are,” Eiji says, with that frown he always gets whenever he’s really digging his heels in about something. “You’re very sweet.”

“How many people have you seen me kill in the past twenty-four hours alone?” Ash means for it to be light and teasing, but it just comes out raw.

Eiji’s frown deepens, but instead of responding, he picks up a cotton ball, dampens it with the antiseptic, and starts to dab carefully at a wound on Ash’s chest. The antiseptic stings, but Ash finds that it doesn’t hurt in the truest sense. It’s not pain that Ash feels as Eiji cleans the cut; it’s a warm, bright, ever-expanding contentment. Eiji is looking after him so gently, so kindly and attentively, that it couldn’t hurt even if Ash wanted it to.

“It doesn’t matter how many people you’ve had to kill,” Eiji says quietly, after a long moment of silence. “You’re still sweet.”

Ash sighs.

“You know, most people would consider murder an instant disqualification for sweetness.”

Eiji tapes some gauze over the wound, taking the time to carefully press down the edges.

“You proved to me you were sweet the very first day I met you.”

Ash raises an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

Eiji nods.

“The very first day we met, Skip and I got kidnapped. And you knew full well that it was a trap, but you came anyway. And then they told you to toss aside your gun and give yourself up, and you did that too.”

“I’d hardly call that ‘sweet,’ Eiji. Skip was a kid, and you were an innocent person caught in the crossfire. Protecting you two was just basic decency.”

Eiji shakes his head.

“I’m not finished. Because you weren’t just giving yourself over to anyone, Ash. Marvin had hurt you so terribly in the past. He’d hurt you in the worst way a person could be hurt. Most people wouldn’t have given themselves over, completely unarmed, to someone who’d done something like that. Most people would try to shoot their way out, at the very least.”

“They had you at gunpoint,” Ash counters. “I couldn’t take that risk.”

Eiji raises his gaze from where he was cleaning a wound to meet Ash’s. There’s something bright and insistent in his eyes.

“Exactly.  _ You  _ couldn’t take that risk. But most people would have. That’s what you don’t understand. Most people would look at that situation and say, ‘Here’s a stranger I’ve hardly known for five minutes. If it’s a choice between risking his life and giving myself over to someone who’s hurt me like that, I’m not just going to agree to come quietly.’”

For a long moment, Ash is quiet. He has a thousand things he wants to say in response, but he doesn’t imagine any of them will go over well.

“But it was you, Eiji,” he wants to say. “You were the first person I can remember who approached me like an equal. Not like a thing. Not like an idol. Just a person. From the very beginning, you weren’t afraid of me, and I think I fell in love with you, just a little bit, the moment we met.”

“But it was me, Eiji,” he wants to say. “It’s different, when it’s me. Pain isn’t the same when I’m the one enduring it. It isn’t as important.”

“I don’t know where you get to thinking I’m some sort of hero,” he does say, and it comes out more scornful than he intended. “People like me aren’t heroes.”

“People like you?”

“Good people are heroes, Eiji.”

Genuine anger flashes in Eiji’s eyes, so sudden and harsh that it actually startles Ash for a moment.

“Are you saying you aren’t a good person?”

“I’m saying I couldn’t be. It’s impossible. You can’t go through what I did and come out the other side whole and unscathed. A person doesn’t endure something like that and just emerge unchanged.”

For a long moment, Eiji is quiet, carefully cleaning a cut on the upper part of Ash’s arm. He must not have any refutation for Ash’s point, but winning that argument isn’t as satisfying as Ash imagined it would be.

As Eiji bandages the wound, the thumb of his free hand rubs small, soothing circles on an unblemished portion of Ash’s skin, right on top of his shoulder blade. It seems absentminded, as if it were simply an instinct, simply second nature, to touch Ash kindly. For perhaps the thousandth time, Ash can’t help but wonder what he could’ve possibly done to deserve Eiji.

“That’s the thing,” Eiji says, suddenly breaking the silence. “You’re right. It would make a lot of sense if everything you’ve suffered corrupted you somehow. I don’t think anyone could blame you if it did. But it didn’t. Ash, that’s what you don’t understand. It didn’t. Somehow, you weren’t corrupted by what you went through. Because you fought against it. You fought to stay kind and good, despite having every reason not to. I don’t think you actually realize how extraordinary that is. I don’t think you realize how much strength it took to preserve that gentleness. You weren’t ruined by what you endured. Because you dug your heels in and refused to let that happen.”

Eiji’s hand trembles as it reaches for a fresh cotton ball to dampen with antiseptic. He’s breathing harder, too. For whatever reason, Eiji feels strongly about this, strong enough to shake with it. With the conviction that despite everything, Ash wasn’t damaged beyond repair. Ash wants to argue with him. He wants to offer up a hundred examples of people he’s killed or transgressions he’s committed, because Eiji has to understand. He can’t labor under this delusion that Ash is some whole, untainted thing. But Ash can see, in the slight hitch of Eiji’s labored breaths, that Eiji doesn’t intend to lose this fight. And it’s like Ash acknowledged earlier--in a battle of wills, Eiji will always be the victor.

“I guess you’re not gonna give this one up, huh?” Ash asks. It’s not exactly an agreement, but it’s not resistance, either.

“No,” Eiji says firmly. “This is the hill I’m willing to die on.”

Ash laughs.

“Where’d you pick up that expression?”

“I have a lot of time to myself, while you’re out saving the world. I’ve been catching up on American television.”

Ash smiles. Without really knowing why, his whole body feels lighter, with that exact same weak, breathless relief he feels after he puts down something heavy he’d been carrying. He hasn’t felt so light and buoyant since he’d learned Eiji had been taken back to New York, and while he can’t fully understand why, the feeling is too welcome to question.

“All done,” Eiji says brightly. He stands up and puts his hands on Ash’s shoulders, appraising his work at arm’s length. “There’s not much I can do for the bruising, but the worst of the cuts are cleaned and bandaged.”

“Don’t worry about the bruising,” Ash replies. “Like a peach, remember?”

Eiji smiles, then reaches out and gently brushes Ash’s hair away from his forehead, slowly trailing his hand along his face. Ash does his utmost not to lean into the touch too obviously.

“My peach,” Eiji says softly, more to himself than to Ash, something warm and achingly fond in his voice.

And then, slowly, so slowly, he leans forward and presses a soft, unbearably gentle kiss to Ash’s cheek. He rests his lips against Ash’s skin for a long, lingering moment, and Ash finds he can count the every beat of his heart, thundering in his ears, before Eiji pulls back.

“I’ll make some lunch, okay?” Eiji says brightly, turning and heading back out of the bedroom.

Ash can’t do much but nod dumbly and watch as Eiji leaves, before slowly bringing his hand up to rest over the place where Eiji had kissed him. He can somehow still feel the warmth of Eiji’s mouth, soft and comforting, against his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so very much for reading!!!!! comments are never required but always appreciated & i reply to each one!!! i'm also available to holler at via [tumblr](https://storybookprincess.tumblr.com/) if you wanna say hi!!!! i really need people to talk about banana fish with XD
> 
> take good care until i see you all again!!!!! xo


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